Yes, RFK Jr. is talking about people like me.
People keep telling me that when RFK Jr. talks about Autistic people “He isn’t talking about people like you.”
If you really believe that, you don’t know me at all.
You may assume that because you have read my poetry or my essays or my books or heard me give a talk, I am “verbal” and that “verbal” people are only “mildly Autistic.” But if you assume this, you have never been with me when I have lost speech entirely.
You might think that because you saw me in the supermarket I can easily run my own errands. What you didn’t see was the fact that I had to go be alone in a quiet, dark place for two hours afterward.
You might assume that because I don’t live in an institutional setting of have professional caregivers I am capable of operating “independently” in this society. You don’t see that I can’t manage a household or my finances by myself – I have the help of friends and family who can easily help me with things that I find nearly impossible, and are grateful that I can easily do things that seem impossible to them.
You probably don’t know that despite four years of lessons from occupational therapists, I never learned to properly tie my shoes.
You have never been to the medical appointments and the therapy sessions where the toll on my body and my psyche of trying to navigate a culture that militates against the very essence of who I am are made visible.
And this is only the beginning of what you don’t know.
RFK Jr. is absolutely talking about people like me when he talks about Autism. And he is defining us only in terms of the ways in which we do not contribute to the function of the dysfunctional society – refusing to see or acknowledge what gifts we bring.
And when he and you talk about Autistic people in these ways, you are not only disparaging me.
You are disparaging friends and lovers and teachers and mentors of mine.
You are disparaging my descendants.
You are disparaging my ancestors:
the ones who were tortured or killed on suspicion of being changelings,
the ones who were put in jails or institutions,
the ones who somehow survived but lived lives as outcasts,
and the ones, before the coming of civilization, who were honored and treasured because they could see and do things nobody else in their communities could see or do.
I will not tolerate this any longer.
No, I am not open to debate or discussion.
In the words of Jefferson Airplane, in the song that has become my anthem this past week:
"In loyalty to their kind,
they cannot tolerate our minds.
In loyalty to our kind,
we cannot tolerate their obstruction!
Life is change,
How it differs from the rocks.
I've seen their ways too often for my liking.
New worlds to gain,
My life is too survive
and be alive for you."
And if you are an ally of RFK Jr.’s agenda when it comes to Autism, you are a threat to my survival and the survival of those I love.
Sean, thank you. This is powerful writing. Something rose within me when I read it and I gave birth to it in the form of a note, with which I shared your article. My note reads as follows:
"This is powerful writing from my dear friend and teacher Sean Padraig O’Donoghue.
This is an anthem to those of us who do not dance to the same tune, who understand the language of Elder Trees, who are not adapted to this bleak, destructive invention we call civilization.
We shall not be conquered.
We shall not be subdued.
We will rise in strength together like a powerful tide on the Ocean.
We will find a way, like Life herself has always done.
We will outlive civilization.
We are the Earth speaking to you."
Thank you. I share your outrage.
Superbly said. The idea of there being any room for debate on such ideas is, as you say, not to be countenanced.